(no subject)

[vyvyanx]

Why do I feel so strangely bleak? I read a couple of stories D wrote on a local writers' list; the second one was apparently about the state of his mind, in a metaphorical way. I barely understood what it meant, what he meant by it. Some parts, I wondered whether they referred to our relationship (the nature of communication, for example), and I even wondered if one character in the story corresponded to me. But it probably wasn't; it was probably his first girlfriend, or someone I don't even know. Why should I imagine that I in particular meant anything to him? I never really knew what he meant, or thought, or wanted; I don't think he ever knew much about me either, and I'm not sure it was that important to him anyway.
Why do I care? It's not like I regret some course of action I took; I don't regret breaking up with him; I don't regret getting together with him in the first place; I don't regret the year we lived together, difficult though it was. I don't think there were other, obviously better courses of action we could have taken at the time. Perhaps, what I regret, is that I never had a moment of insight into him; I never really knew what was going on in his mind at all.
How strange it all is. How strange life is.